Through Every Rift Of Discovery Some Seeming

Whatever Touches The Nerves Of Motive, Whatever Shifts Man's Moral Position, Is Mightier Than Steam, Or Calorie, Or Lightening.

If Angels Stoop From Visions Of More Than Earthly Beauty To Spells Of Less Than Earthly Worth, They Are But Fallen Angels, Mingling Divine Utterances With The Babblings Of Madness, And The Madness Is Not The Divineness.

As For Environments, The Kingliest Being Ever Born In The Flesh Lay In A Manger.

It Takes Something Of A Poet To Apprehend And Get Into The Depth, The Lusciousness, The Spiritual Life Of A Great Poem. And So We Must Be In Some Way Like God In Order That We May See God As He Is.

Home Is The Seminary Of All Other Institutions.